omplished a gentleman as our degenerate
age could display."

The remembrance of Milady recurred to D'Artagnan.

"And you are happy?" he said to his friend.

"As happy as it is allowed to one of God's creatures to be on this
earth; but say out all you think, D'Artagnan, for you have not yet done
so."

"You are too bad, Athos; one can hide nothing from you," answered
D'Artagnan. "I wished to ask you if you ever feel any emotions of terror
resembling----"

"Remorse! I finish your phrase. Yes and no. I do not feel remorse,
because that woman, I profoundly hold, deserved her punishment. Had she
one redeeming trait? I doubt it. I do not feel remorse, because had we
allowed her to live she would have persisted in her work of destruction.
But I do not mean, my friend that we were right in what we did. Perhaps
all blood demands some expiation. Hers had been accomplished; it
remains, possibly, for us to accomplish ours."

"I have sometimes thought as you do, Athos."

"She had a son, that unhappy woman?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever heard of him?"

"Never."

"He must be about twenty-three years of age," said Athos, in a low tone.
"I often think of that young man, D'Artagnan."

"Strange! for I had forgotten him," said the lieutenant.

Athos smiled; the smile was melancholy.

"And Lord de Winter--do you know anything about him?"

"I know that he is in high favor with Charles I."

"The fortunes of that monarch now are at low water. He shed the blood
of Strafford; that confirms what I said just now--blood will have blood.
And the queen?"

"What queen?"

"Madame Henrietta of England, daughter of Henry IV."

"She is at the Louvre, as you know."

"Yes, and I hear in bitter poverty. Her daughter, during the severest
cold, was obliged for want of fire to remain in bed. Do you grasp
that?" said Athos, shrugging his shoulders; "the daughter of Henry IV.
shivering for want of a fagot! Why did she not ask from any one of us a
home instead of from Mazarin? She should have wanted nothing."

"Have you ever seen the queen of England?" inquired D'Artagnan.

"No; but my mother, as a child, saw her. Did I ever tell you that my
mother was lady of honor to Marie de Medici?"

"Never. You know, Athos, you never spoke much of such matters."

"Ah, mon Dieu, yes, you are right," Athos replied; "but then there must
be some occasion for speaking."

"Porthos wouldn't have waited for it so patiently," said D'Artagnan,
with a smile.